


A Second Chance

by Tgaret990



Series: A Perfect World [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Blunt and honest Madara, HashiMada, Here's a fic anyway, I'm late to the party I know, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Madara isn't losing his chance with Hashi twice, Time Travel Fix-It, Waking up in a Perfect World, We're back before Madara leaves the Leaf, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-11 14:59:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19112050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tgaret990/pseuds/Tgaret990
Summary: Madara could confirm that dying was awful, but at least he wouldn't die alone... Or die at all, it seems.Madara wakes up with a second chance, a chance to live out the rest of his days with the love of his life, a chance to live in a perfect world.





	A Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Thought it was about time I posted for the fandom. This is my first time writing for these precious boys, so apologies for any major OOCness!

A Second Chance

 

A/N: My first Naruto fic, that I started writing  _ years _ ago, was supposed to be a reader insert with the reader being a musically talented ninja who was a total boss, but I guess I’ll just have to post that later. Hashimada is an old obsession that’s recently returned as I’ve started watching Boruto and rewatching old Shippuden episodes, so allow me to contribute a fix-it fic for our two babies WHO DESERVED A HAPPY ENDING. Probably going to be 2 or 3 parts depending on my motivation, or maybe I’ll make this into a series? I don’t know yet. Presenting to you an OOC, loving, but still a stubborn jackass Madara and Hashi being Hashi, eventually adding Izuna being Izuna and Tobirama being done with everyone. And I’m not going to linger on the angst in the opening scene either, so enjoy!

  
  


    The first thing Madara noticed about dying was the excruciating pain that soon began to dissipate, replaced instead by an icy numbness that threatened to drag him into the dark. The second thing he noticed was the emptiness in his chest, the ache in his heart as time seemed to stretch and slow, taunting him in his final moments. But he had to hang on, just a little bit longer. He felt more than saw Hashirama kneel down next to him. Hashirama… The one who’d been with him since the beginning, who stayed by his side even after everything that had happened between them, who would stay with him through the end.

 

    “When we were kids… You once said we’re shinobi, and we don’t know when we’ll die. And that for neither side to die, we’d both have to reveal what’s inside of us and pour each other drinks to toast like brothers.” He saw Hashirama turn to him with a sad smile in his peripheral vision. “But we’re both about to die. Right now, we can drink together, as war buddies,” Hashirama told him sadly, somehow keeping his voice steady despite the pure devastation Madara could tell permeated his very being.

 

    “War buddies… huh?” he whispered back, every word a struggle to speak, feeling himself fading and leaving behind the only person left who he cared about, and who cared about him in turn. Hashirama… “Well… I guess… That’s okay… by…” As he felt his eyes slip shut, the last thing Madara saw was Hashirama hovering over him, taking his hand, tears in his eyes. Then, darkness. If this was truly how he was dying, he guessed this wasn’t the worst way to go. And at least he wasn’t alone… Actually… Now that he thought about it, death was actually becoming a lot warmer than it had been. How long had he been drifting in endless nothingness, isolated and frozen at the core, unaware of his surroundings, if he had any? Was that a sign of something? He’s met strange travelers who discussed with him a belief in an afterlife, one of either eternal peace or eternal suffering. Perhaps that held some truth? Or perhaps death had finally driven him mad and his mind thought his internal fire was burning him from the inside out. But… No that wasn’t it either. Then that meant…

 

    The first thing Madara noticed upon regaining consciousness was that he was most certainly  **not** dead. As death had approached, he’d felt like he was drowning in an icy river, fighting to keep his head above water so that he could breathe and get his words out. And when the darkness consumed him he’d felt completely and utterly alone. Now, however, he was surrounded by warmth, wrapped in a strong, firm embrace, and he’d never felt more safe or wanted in his life. He slowly opened his eyes. There, lying down next to him with a soft smile on his face, exactly like he remembered him, was Hashirama.

 

    Was… Was he dreaming? Was this some sick and twisted punishment for all the things he’d done in life? Was death taunting him, prolonging his suffering with visions of something he wanted more than anything in the world but could never have? This wasn’t possible. As if sensing the downward spiral of his thoughts, Hashirama brushed his cheek gently, and Madara grabbed the hand to keep it in place, perhaps squeezing it too hard, but he didn’t care. He noticed Hashirama’s familiar chakra, his warm eyes, his adorable sleepy smile. Hesitantly, he raised a hand, cupping Hashirama’s cheek almost reverently. Hashirama’s eyes widened in shock, and, before Madara could rethink his decision, he dove in for a passionate, rough kiss that stole Hashirama’s breath away, clinging to him like he was a lifeline, pouring every apology and love declaration into it. Hashirama lay frozen in delighted shock for a moment before enthusiastically kissing back, wrapping his arms around him and groaning as he felt Madara tug on his hair. 

 

    The two broke apart when they needed to breathe, Madara looking as if he couldn’t believe he just did that and Hashirama with a lovestruck look on his face. “Well… G-Good morning to you too,” Hashirama stuttered, face flushed red. Madara looked no better, face equally red, breathing equally out of control.

 

_ “Hashirama,” _ Madara whispered, still not believing he was actually here, in bed with the man of his dreams. And didn’t  _ that _ statement provoke thoughts that didn’t need to be in his head at the moment. Another kiss ought to distract his mind, right? This one was softer, and he couldn’t help the silly grin that appeared on his face afterwards. Hashirama looked at him in a sort of bewildered happiness.

 

    “Madara, you’re strangely happy this morning.”

 

    “It’s just…” He looked away, not knowing what to say. “I’ve never shown you enough how much you mean to me…” Hashirama pulled Madara close, hands scrubbing soothingly against his scalp.

 

    “But you do, even if you don’t realize it. I may not be the smartest shinobi around, but I’m not blind. Well, not when it matters.” Madara pulled back slightly, raising an eyebrow and—Ah, there’s that look Hashirama had been missing all morning: unimpressed and slightly irritated.

 

    “So I assume you weren’t blind the first time you asked me out for dinner?” Hashirama laughed nervously.

 

    “Well—

 

    “Or the time you left me flowers everywhere: at the compound, my office, our sparring grounds?”

 

    “That was—

 

    “Our first kiss was on accident, for Kami’s sake!” Madara sighed as Hashirama bowed his head, a dark cloud hanging over him.

 

    “I know I’m slow to pick up on things. I’m sorry. Really, I am.” Madara sighed at the behavior.

 

    “Idiot,” he murmured affectionately, gently tipping up his chin to look him in the eyes. “I’ll start breakfast.” With that he stole a quick kiss, reluctantly getting up from their bed, and didn’t  _ their _ bed sound wonderful? Madara knew he was acting strangely, that he would never usually act the way he was right now, but… If this was some higher power giving him a second chance at the life he never thought he’d have, he was going to make damn sure that he didn’t make the same mistakes as in his previous life. In the original world, he’d never shared his feelings with Hashirama, though he had the sneaking suspicion the man knew near the end, and even if he had he wouldn’t have been so open about expressing it. Here though, here he could express his love for him however he liked without fear. What did he have to be afraid of in a perfect world?

 

    It wasn’t until he was finishing breakfast that he felt a strong pair of arms hug him from behind, and he barely resisted the urge to flinch. Some things didn’t change it seemed. Hashirama quickly apologized as he felt Madara tense, pressing a soft kiss to his neck as he let go of him. “It smells wonderful,” he told him as Madara handed him a bowl, rice, vegetable, and cuts of meat topped off with a delectable smelling sauce, hot and steamy. They sat across from each other at the table, and Madara couldn’t help but look around at their home. Their. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the word in his thoughts.

 

    It was simple, but it held traces of both of them in the plants scattered throughout, the rich, dark tones of the walls and furniture, nicely contrasted with pops of color, the peaceful atmosphere that seemed to separate them from the rest of the world. It was exactly how Madara imagined it would be—Not that he imagined often or anything! He just… He felt at home for the first time in a very, very long time. Hashirama caught Madara’s gaze wandering and couldn’t help but smile softly at the serene look on his face. When was the last time he’d seen Madara so at peace? Madara’s gaze then fell to Hashirama, who was staring at him warmly, and Madara felt himself blushing at the look. 

 

    “Tch. What?” he asked, trying to keep the embarrassment out of his tone. Hashirama gave a gentle laugh.

 

    “It’s just… I’ve never seen you so happy.” Madara hmphed.

 

    “I have every reason to be the happiest man alive. The biggest is sitting right across from me.” He stated that as if it were obvious. It was Hashirama’s turn to blush. He was so direct! And yet it melted his heart to hear these things from Madara after all the time they’d been together. Madara had never been a sappy, emotional lover, not like Hashirama. While Hashirama was known for his “love speeches”, as Madara called them, and for wearing his heart on his sleeve, Madara’s way of expressing himself was usually in his lingering touches, his soft looks, his kisses on his cheek or in his hair. The recent change was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome.

 

    “Madara…” he murmured, a bit speechless. He laughed it off, taking their empty bowls and setting them aside. “It’s a good thing I have the day off today, huh?”

 

    “Day off?” Hashirama nodded.

 

    “I just… I had a feeling. And… I wanted to spend some time with you. With all the missions you’ve been gone on I just thought… Maybe we could spend the day together.” He seemed anxious as he told him this, though Madara couldn’t fathom why. He reached out a hand as they got up, and Hashirama was yet again surprised at his actions. Grinning brightly he happily accepted the hand, and the two strolled out of their house and through the village that way. The appearance of the founders walking hand in hand left many villagers shocked and, surprisingly, many of them smiling. Their relationship was no secret by any means, but it was nice for everyone to be able to see a more human side of their leaders. Granted, not everyone approved (elders would be elders), but Madara could care less about the occasional frown or glare they received. He paid them no attention, instead re-familiarizing himself with the place he guessed he could call home, because what else could it be with Hashirama here?


End file.
